Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies
by TheGleekShallInheritTheEarth
Summary: Rachel Berry, after discovering her own gifts, is sent away to a coven, Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies. There, she meets Santana Lopez and Quinn Fabray, her fellow witches. (It's based off of American Horror Story: Coven, but you don't have to watch that to read this.) Faberry vs. Pezberry. T, may turn to M in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

Rachel walks up the grey steps to the looming blue-black door of the great Victorian house and knocks tentatively. She looks down at the words scrawled on the back of her mother's business card to be given to the taxi before: 'Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies'.

The black letters are smudged slightly by the rain as it pours down from the gray clouds.

As she hears the sound of the door being unlocked, she looks back up and smiles brightly. She wants to make a good impression for her new freak show sorority, or so she had heard her sister call it when her mother told them Rachel was being sent away.

A blonde woman opens the door and matches the brightness of Rachel's grin.

"Hello, I'm Cordelia Goode. You must be Rachel Berry, the girl from Ohio we've been expecting," she says.

"Hi. Um, yes. I'm Rachel," Rachel says.

"Please, come in," she continues.

Rachel suddenly feels herself becoming less afraid. There is a feeling about the house that she has never felt before. It's a dark but familiar and almost comforting aura. The interior of the building is stunning. The walls, the furniture, the fireplace, everything is white and absolutely beautiful. Rachel admires the Gone With the Wind-esque stairs and walks through the threshold of the mansion.

She carries three bags with her, not knowing for how long she would be staying. She closes the door behind her.

Cordelia guides her over to the bottom of the stairs.

"Rachel, I'm sure that by now you've noticed that there is something special about you. Something that you may have previously thought impossible," Cordelia says.

"I'm not sure exactly what your parents told you, but this is not just a place that people send their children when they have problems they don't know how to deal with. This is a coven. The only one left, actually," Cordelia says.

Rachel, about a week ago began to notice strange things about herself that, when she inquired to her parents, they told her of her lineage going back to Salem and that she was indeed a witch.

"Yes, um, my mother told me that. She said that her grandmother was a part of this coven. I- She also said that witches are growing scarce," Rachel says, stuttering at how strange it sounded coming out of her mouth.

"Unfortunately, yes. That's true. Seventy year ago, this coven housed more than forty girls. Now, it's down to seven. Well, now eight," Cordelia says. She smiles. Rachel sees now why she was so happy to see her. She fears that witches will die out and knows that if new witches do not discover their power, then they could cease to exist forever. "Not including me and the council and of course my mother," she finishes.

"So, where is everyone?" Rachel asks.

"Abigail, Samantha, Keira, Gia, and Sage are all out, but Quinn and Santana are both upstairs. In fact, I was just about to show you to your room. You'll be living with Santana, as fate would have it," Cordelia smiles again.

Cordelia walks Rachel up the stairs and down a long, white hallway. She stands next to the door and knocks.

"Who is it?" Santana's voice is muffled by the door that separates them.

"It's Mrs. Goode, Santana. I'm here with your new roommate, Rachel Berry," Cordelia says.

"Rachel Berry? Where'd she get that name? Bath and Body Works Summer Collection?" Santana asks.

Rachel stiffens up but almost smiles as she does so. Mostly because she's used to it, but partly because even though the joke was pointed at her, she doesn't detect cynicism in Santana's voice. For the first time, strangely, she feels in on the joke.

"Santana-" Cordelia is cut off by the white door opening and Santana standing in the doorway.

"Santana, this is your new roommate, Rachel Berry," she finishes.

Santana is suddenly hit with a feeling- something uncanny- something she'd never felt before herself but countless movies and books had tried to put into words. It is a kind of magnetic sensation, and she feels it over her whole body. She's undeniably drawn to the beautiful girl looking back at her. Her own dark brown eyes blink quickly as she tries to conceal her star struck gaze.

As silly as it sounds and embarrassed she is for even thinking it, Santana suddenly understands the pure essence of butterflies in your stomach. This doesn't feel like mere attraction- no. It's an undeniable urge, almost on a cosmic level, and it feels like it takes everything she has not to push Ms. Goode-y Two Shoes out of the way and kiss Rachel right there and then.

She's almost unable to speak at this sudden feeling, but she opens her mouth and says, "So you're the newbie. We've heard about you. None of the interesting stuff, of course," she looks pointedly at Cordelia, "you'll have to fill me in yourself on all of that," Santana says, knowing that it is better to deflect her very sudden, very terrifying feeling as the usual innuendo filled vibe she reserves for... well everyone. But she can already tell this Rachel girl is not everyone.

It is better to appear as guarded and find out as much as she can. Hell, she doesn't even know if she's a lesbian yet. 'Put it back in your pants, Santana," she thinks to herself. 'Fate is not so generous that your incredibly hot new roommate, who shows up mere months after you came out to the coven, is a lesbian too. No. Your luck is not that's great,' she thinks.

Rachel has been struggling with confusing feelings for a while now. She used to open magazines and think to herself, 'Wow, she's beautiful,' rather than, 'Wow, he's handsome,' and she would think nothing of it. But recently she's been wondering. What it would be like to be with a woman- to experience everything she's always wanted to experience. She's always known she's had these feelings on some levels, but standing here, looking at Santana, one of the most beautiful women she's eve seen, magazine or not, it all feels so real. As she looks at her, she realizes that there is nothing more that she wants than to kiss her, touch her; it's an undeniable attraction, and she had never felt it for a boy. The urge. The want. Chemistry bounces off the walls, and even Cordelia seems to notice the depth of the gaze between Rachel and Santana.

"Well, you guys... um," Cordelia searches her head for the words to use without them being soaked in innuendo, "have fun getting to know each other," Mission failed. Oh well. Cordelia smiles yet again and walks away and down the stairs.

Rachel bites her lip, insanely cutely, Santana, if she were narrating this story, might add.

"Um... Here, come in. Well I mean it's your room. You don't need my permission or anything," Santana internally rolls her eyes at how awkward what she just said was.

Rachel just smiled.

"So, Santana. Thats a cool name. Like the band?" Rachel asks as she sets her things down on the floor of the room.

"Uh, yeah. I'm not sure how I got it. I wasn't really there for the naming process," Santana says. She looks at Rachel. There's something about her that she just can't put her finger on. It's something special- a quality she's never seen in anyone else before. It magnifies her beauty and intoxicates her.

"This is my bed; this room was originally intended for three people. I mean, there are like twenty empty rooms in this house. I guess they put us together to be good influences on each other or something," Santana says. Not that she's complaining.

"Sorry you're stuck with me, then," Rachel says. Santana is about to tell her that that wasn't what she meant, but she sees the smile on Rachel's face as she looks down, unpacking her luggage.

"So, I take it this bed is mine," Rachel asks.

"Unless you wanna share," Santana says, gesturing to her own bed.

Rachel's eyes widen in surprise, and she can't say she hates the idea.

"Um- I... Uh-" Rachel stutters.

"I'm kidding," Santana says, more confident now in her new roommate's impartiality towards females, so to speak. The look on Rachel's face when she said it, it was the most adorable thing Santana had ever seen.

Rachel now also wonders about Santana. She considers doing the one thing her mother told her never to do; use her power unless absolutely necessary. She discovered that she has a sort of Clairvoyance, but a very special kind. For whatever reason, hers is different. She can hear people's thoughts, but she can control who's thoughts she hears and when.

It's strange to Rachel; when she first discovered them, she was staring at her mother after she had gotten into trouble for doing something- she doesn't remember what- and she suddenly heard 'What will I do with you, Rachel?', and she clearly knew it wasn't her own thought. She had been told about the Seven Wonders and the lineage of witches in her family, so she... experimented a bit. Now, looking at Santana, she is wondering if she could forgive herself for invading Santana's mind like that. Then a terrible thought shook her. What is Santana herself can hear her thoughts? Should she ask her.

"So what can you do? What's your power?" Santana asks.

Turns out she didn't have to.

"Clairvoyance," Rachel says.

Santana is frozen. She fears that Rachel has heard everything that she has thought about her since she saw her. 'Shut up, stupid brain,' she thinks.

"Don't worry. It's kind of a distorted Clairvoyance. I can hear thoughts, but I get to choose who and when. I have control over it," Rachel's says, "And I haven't been peeking in on your head, just to let you know," she finishes.

"Oh," Santana says, relieved.

"What about you?" Rachel asks, plopping down on the bed, sitting up and smiling feeling a slight head rush and then giggling like a kid drunk on candy and soda.

"Pyrokinesis, Telekinesis, and Transmutation," Santana says, not exactly humbly.

"Wow, three? That's amazing. Have you ever wondered if," Rachel lowers her voice as if she is telling the biggest secret, "you're the next supreme?"

Santana nods. She feels like she has a groupie, and she's making no effort at all to prevent it from going to her head. But Rachel's no groupie. She's the main event itself.

Rachel, again very close, almost whispers, "Can you show me?" The close proximity makes Santana's legs feel like they've turned to liquid and her heart beat acts like it's confused. Rachel smells like lemons and vanilla which shouldn't really go together but do- so so well.

Santana blinks and swallows hard, trying to take herself out of the trance mere eye contact with Rachel has put her in and sits up.

"Yeah, sure," she says.

She holds out her palm and without even thinking about it, a flame dances on her skin. Rachel watches in awe like she's seeing fire for the first time. Santana looks to Rachel again as Rachel watches the flame. Distracted, Santana lets the flame go out, and Rachel looks back to Santana.

"That was very cool," Rachel said.

"Thanks," Santana says.

"Sorry," Rachel says as she accidentally brushes her hand on Santana's thigh.

"It's fine," Santana says.

Thunder booms, and the rain becomes heavier. But Santana and Rachel's eyes never leave each other's.

Rachel doesn't exactly know what was the reasoning behind her sudden impulse; normally she would wait weeks and weeks to try this, but something about Santana, about this moment, and the culmination of all her wondering and confusing feelings that lead Rachel to here. She leans in and kisses Santana. Santana, at first, is shocked but also elated at the sudden turn of events. She kisses back and feels the softness of the brunette's lips.

Their lips, tingling at the sensation of each other's mouths, part for a moment. They return to each other unable to stop; their lips feel like they are mad for each other, and though the kiss remains slow and sensual, the intensity and desperation in the movements of their lips grows as Rachel runs her tongue along Santana's teeth and let's her own dance softly with the other girl's tongue.

They part again. Santana's hands are amid Rachel's soft brunette locks, and she gently holds the back of her head, not wanting there to be too much space between them. They both kind of smile and let out a nervous giggle.

"I've never tries that before," Rachel says.

"Kissing a girl?" Santana asks.

Rachel nods. It was the truth. And it was everything she imagined it would be- soft and gratifying.

"Well that's surprising. You're a really good kisser," Santana says.

"So are you," Rachel says.

"I'm sorry. I know I must seem weird. I mean, I met you like five minutes ago, but I don't know; something was telling me I had to try that," Rachel says.

"So you're not-" Santana is disappointed and distraught hearing that this may have been a whim, an experiment.

"No. I mean, I've been wondering. For a long long time about it. I've always wanted to... try it, but I just hadn't met a girl that I felt you know that for," Rachel says.

Santana knows what she means. When she was first thinking about coming out, she had only kissed a handful of girls, all of whom are straight, but she knows the feeling Rachel is talking about. It's like you have these feelings you want to act on ,and suddenly there's an opportunity too, so you have to take it.

Suddenly Santana had another thought. Quinn. She knows Quinn just came out to her parents a couple weeks ago. Santana and Quinn have a complicated relationship. They've always been in competition with one another. Santana doesn't want Rachel to be just another thing to fight over. She thinks Rachel could be really something special, and she doesn't want Quinn coming in the middle of it.

(A/N: Sorry, kind of a crappy way to end the chapter. This is still a work in progress, and this is also a lot of set up before we get to the good stuff. :) Quinn will come in in the next chapter, btw. So, I hop you liked it! Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review!)


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, American Horror Story or any of their characters. They are owned by the wonderful Brad Falchuk, and Ian Brennan.

(A/N: I know a lot of you guys were hoping for Faberry, and don't worry! Quinn will be introduced in this chapter, and there will be plenty of Faberry! I promise! Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope you like it! :) Don't forget to review! Oh, also, in Coven, a Supreme is basically the leader of the coven- a super powerful witch who has mastered the 'Seven Wonders' or powers. A new one comes up every generation... Oh! P.S Sorry I haven't updated in a little while... I discovered Flappy Bird and got a little carried away...)

Chapter 2 - Quinn's POV

As I, along with the rest of the girls, walk through the doors to the house after getting back from the worst fucking field trip since my elementary school had the bright idea to take a group of eight year olds to Alcatraz - Madams Delphine LaLaurie's estate (good call, Cordelia), I take off my jacket and hang it on the coat hanger by the door.

Santana walks down the stairs, and I'm about to ask her why she didn't have to go to the old lady's house when she suddenly looks back upstairs and says, "Hey, Rachel! Come downstairs! I have to show you the kitchen. The cook always has a cake somewhere,"

Rachel. The girl Cordelia was telling us about. She must be here.

"The new girl's here? Oh, and she's already met you. The poor thing," I say to Santana. I am slightly bitter that Santana didn't have to go; she never has to go. She thinks she's the next Supreme, so she thinks she has some special privilege.

My thoughts are cut off when I see who I assume must be Rachel. What I notice first about her isn't her beautiful smile or silky locks or stunning eyes, but a glow about her. She has an essence about her that is unmistakable. There are just some people with that certain quality. Not exactly charisma- no, that's not right, but it's the kind of thing that intoxicates you and makes you absolutely transfixed by them.

She looks at me and smiles again.

"Oh, hi. I'm Rachel Berry," she says. Her voice is sweet and soft. Comparing it to honey would be an insult to her. (A/N: Sorry. That's so sappy, but I had to.)

"Hi, I'm Quinn. Quinn Fabray," I say back. She smiles as she finally reaches the bottom of the stairs and stands next to Santana, who looks very irritated and hasn't stopped glaring at me since I first saw Rachel. Dammit. Was the look on my face when I saw her that doe-eyed and wonderstruck?

Santana, ever so subtly, clears her throat. Jesus Christ. Has she already made a move? No. She couldn't have. Rachel's probably not even gay. It wouldn't stop Santana from trying, though. Why is it that everything I want, Santana gets? God, I'm being crazy. I'm making assumptions, and I'm acting like I own her; I mean for the love of fuck, I literally just met her. Still, there's this kind of... chemical, physical, undeniable allure that goes beyond attraction - it's almost like a fascination or magnetism between us.

I pay no notice, and I think Rachel genuinely thought she just needed to clear her throat, so I say again to Rachel, "So, I hear you and Satan- sorry, Santana, are sharing a room together,"

"Yeah. It's a beautiful room," Rachel says.

"Believe it or not, mine's even lovelier. You should come by and see it some time," I say.

"Anyway, Rachel, where are you from," Santana interjects, and I make an effort not to roll my eyes.

"Ohio," Rachel says.

"Oh, I have a cousin who lives there," I say. I don't have a cousin that lives there.

"So, what do you guys normally do around here?" Rachel asks.

"Nothing too fun. Boring field trips and shit, but luckily, I can keep it pretty interesting. Not that any of the bitches around here know how to have any fun... or a good idea when they hear one," Santana says, looking pointedly at me.

"We were not going to set the Lambda Sig house on fire, Santana," I say, referring to the last great idea Santana had.

"Yeah, I know. I was there; I heard the ruling, short round," Santana said.

"You're less than an inch taller than me," I say, exasperated.

"Do you wanna get out the tape measure again, Fabray? I'll do it," Santana threatens.

"So, Rachel, if you really want a tour, I can show you up to the attic," Santana says, as if that's some incredibly mysterious and sexy place. It's probably covered with dust bunnies and mold.

"I thought we weren't allowed up there," Rachel says.

"We're allowed anywhere we want. See Rachel," Santana puts her hand on Rachel's shoulder, semi-sweetly and semi-seductively, which causes me to hold back another eye roll. Santana and her always wanting the same things I so will be the death of me, or at least of my vision, "we're witches. We make the rules," Santana finishes.

I notice something about Rachel's body language. She looks... flustered but also a little embarrassed. Thoughts wandered into my head about what could have happened in the mere hours since Rachel's been here. Part of me thinks nothing could happen... Not that quickly, but then again, it's Santana.

Rachel looks at me. She smiles, but Santana just stares at Rachel.

"Come on; let's go," I say, not willing to be the third wheel, left out.

I grab Rachel's hand and she, shockingly, amazingly, doesn't let it go or twitch away. She giggles and runs up the stairs with me as if we were children.

"Hey," I say excitedly when we get to the top, "can you do transmutation?" (A/N: Here, transmutation is like transportation from one place to another instantaneously, like a flash)

"Umm, I don't know. I've never tried," she says.

"Here," I say, holding her hand tighter, "I'll show you."

With that, I can see Santana flash from the bottom of the stairs to where we are. 'Butt out, Satan' I think to myself.

"I could show you. Quinn's a beginner. She could over shoot her destination and get impaled on the front gate," Santana says. She grabs Rachel's hands, and before I can do anything, or snap back at Santana, Rachel's warm palms are no longer pressed against mine, as Santana, from Rachel, literally tore Rachel from my arms. How sad and... literal is that?

I decide it's better to stay where I am. If I make the wrong move, Santana or Rachel would reappear exactly where I'm standing, and I don't even want to know what would happen if that was the case.

Suddenly, Santana and Rachel reappear beside me, hand in hand.

I know it's dumb, but it's like if you were to see a really hot guy (or girl) at a party, and you make eye contact across a crowded room, and it's like you can detect your chemistry immediately; you've never even spoken to them, but when another girl (or guy) has the balls (or... lady balls?) to go up to them and hit on them, it's like you've lost something really special, and the jealousy you feel is sharp and painful, even though you know it may not be warranted exactly.

Only, it's different now. When I learned I was a witch, part of what they told me was that, even if your gift was not clairvoyance, all witches possess a certain intuition, especially when it comes to reading people.

Things are more acute, heightened, stronger for us; we experience emotions on a higher lever than the lower beings - anger, jealousy, infatuation, sexual desire and attraction, though they are not exactly emotions... We take time to fall in love just like anybody else, but when we see... potential in someone, it is obvious and irrevocable, and it is what I, and I suspect Santana too, saw in Rachel.

"So, now that the joy ride is over, Rachel, I'll show you around the house-" I'm cut off.

"Sorry, Q, Delia already gave her the two dollar tour," Santana says with a little bit of a smirk.

"Well," I start, desperate to not be excluded by Sergeant Santana's Slutty Hearts Club Band, "anyway, the attic. Let's go."

"Let's," Santana says.

This time, I don't give Santana the satisfaction of getting one more step ahead. I grab Rachel's hand again and focus. Before my very eyes, the floor of the head of the stairway turns to that of the attic.

Santana's already there, standing just beside a tall, white, dusty bookcase, smirking.

"Glad you made it, Glinda," Santana says. Her incessant smirking is going to give her the weirdest fucking wrinkles when she gets older.

Rachel giggles. I look to her, and she looks back at me. She looks guilty and embarrassed. Oh, shit. Did she just hear that?

I look back to Santana, who is rummaging through an old, musty box on the floor.

"Oh, no way," Santana says, standing up and turning around. She has a large box in her hand. I can't quite tell what it is.

"What is it?" Rachel asks, walking over to Santana and letting go of my hand again.

"Ouija Board," Santana says, mischievously.

(A/N: Sorry that this is kind of short and its sort of kind of not really a cliff hanger; I just wanted to get the next chapter up. Don't worry; the next chapter will be longer and almost exclusively Faberry. Thanks for reading; don't forget to review.)

:)


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hi, so once again, I obviously do not own Glee or AHS; anyway, thanks for reading! Don't forget to review, and I hope you like it. Warning: There is a character who uses an offensive word towards Quinn and Santana for being gay, and I want it to be known that this is the character, and obviously not me; I would never ever say this word, especially not to a gay person.

Quinn's POV

"Are you fucking-"

"Oh, I've always wanted to try one of these," Rachel says, interrupting me.

"Yeah, totally," I say, as Santana's smirk transitions into an eye roll.

She sets the box down on a table that is, just like everything else in the attic, covered in dust. Rachel sits down, criss cross applesauce, and smiles like a little kid. And it's the cutest damn thing I think I've ever seen.

Santana sits right beside her, and I sit on her other side.

Rachel slowly lifts the lid and removes the actual board, discarding the box to the floor.

She kind of sits there for a minute. We all do.

"So, what do you do?" I ask.

"What do you think you do, dumbass. Come on, Q. You've seen the movies," Santana says.

"Well I didn't see you doing anything," I say.

"I was... waiting for someone else to take a turn," She says.

"Jesus, let's just do this," I say.

Rachel smiles. I guess anger is amusing to her; maybe that's why she got along so well with Santana.

Rachel breaths in and out slowly and then places her hands onto the planchette (A/N: the little plastic thing that moves.)

"What should we ask?" I ask.

"Hey, Casper, do you have Skinemax on The Other Side?" Santana asks.

"Santana, don't piss it off," I say, irritable.

"Um, what about... Were you murdered?" Rachel asks.

We all stare at Rachel's hands. Suddenly, there is a small movement, and Rachel's hands move to the word 'yes' on the board.

"Did you move it?" I ask.

Rachel shakes her head.

"No, scout's honor," which should not be nearly as cute as it is in this situation, but she just looked at me with these hug eyes when I asked her if she was lying, and she just looks like this cute little puppy.

"Here, can I try, Rach?" Santana asks Rachel. Funny. I've never seen Santana ask for anything; it's usually more of a demand or a threat. And don't think her shortening of Rachel's name was unnoticed by me.

Rachel nods and moves her bangs out of her face, but they fall back immediately, and Rachel looks so flustered, I let out a little giggle, and she looks at me, and after a short moment, she laughs at herself too. Meanwhile, Santana is staring daggers at me.

Rachel moves the board over to Santana.

"Be nice," I say to her.

She rolls her eyes.

"Sorry about the Skinemax remark. Anyway, were you murdered by a witch?" Santana asks.

The planchette moves over to the 'yes', though this time, a little too quickly, if you ask me.

"You totally moved it, Santana," I say.

"That's bullshit, Fabray," she says. "Calm down,"

"How about you ask what their name is?" Rachel suggests.

Santana and I both visibly become less tense at Rachel's soft voice in our ears. Santana looks to the board.

"Who are you? What's your name?" Santana asks.

K. I. E. R. A.

"Kiera?" I say, my mind immediately wandering to my fellow witch, living just two rooms away from me.

Suddenly, we hear giggling coming from the corner.

"Oh, fuck," Santana says, annoyed. "Are you fucking kidding, Kiera?"

"Well, obviously. Thats kind of the point, genius," Keira's voice comes from where the giggling was just heard as she walks out.

"Jesus, how were you doing that? How long have you been there?" I ask.

"A little longer than you. I skipped out on the field trip and came u here. You're not the only one who," she pauses, suddenly noticing Rachel, who has been sitting, slightly dumbstruck since since Kiera started talking. "Oh, hello. You must be the new girl," Kiera says, almost hungrily.

I open my mouth to speak, but Santana beats me to it, "How, dipshit, we're asking how you did it,"

"Telekinesis," Kiera waves her fingers at the board and it moves to 'D, U, then H'.

"So, what's your name?" Keira sits directly next to Rachel.

"R-Rachel Berry," Rachel says.

"Huh, are you a fag, like these two?" Kiera says, looking at me and Santana.

Rachel, Santana, and I all open our mouths at the same time to say something, but Kiera, again, cuts us off.

"Don't worry if you are. Thy've never been together, ironically enough. I mean you'd think, right? Two lesbians living under the same roof and they've never even given it a shot," Kiera smirks. "They seem to have taken a liking to you, though,"she says maliciously. "I'm sure you've already figured that out, being clairvoyant and all. Cordy told us all this before you got here. You're the most interesting thing that's happened to this house since, jesus, I don't even know how long," Kiera smiles, a genuine smile, which is made all the more creepy, because she never does that.

She takes a strand of (a very uncomfortable) Rachel's hair between her fingers and twirls it before standing up and leaving. "This is gonna be a fun year, isn't it."

"God, I hat that bitch," Santana says.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

Rachel nod. "Who is she?" Rachel asks.

"Oh, that's Kiera," I say.

"I gathered," Rachel says.

"She's just a bitch; nobody knows why, really. She's rich and she doesn't have any of those my parents worked too much and never loved me shit. I guess she just likes being a bitch," Santana says.

A/N: Ugh, soooooo sorry about the long wait, short chapter and utter lack of Faberry, which I did promise, but it's been a while since I posted, and I promise that the next chapter will be almost more like a part two of this and also WILL INCLUDE EVEN MORE FABERRY TO MAKE UP FOR THIS CHAPTER, I SWEAR! Anyway, thanks for reading, don't forget to review!


	4. Chapter 4

Hey, guys. I am so sorry for the long wait, I really need to start updating sooner! But anyway, here's chapter 4! I do not own Glee, it's characters, AHS, or it's characters. Thanks for reading, I hope you like it, and please review! Btw, this might be a dumb idea, but I was thinking about maybe experimenting with time travel in this Fic even though that isn't one of the Seven Wonders on the actually show, let me know what you think. :) Chapter 4 Nobody's POV Later that night, after the not at all stupidly named 'Share Circle', Santana went up to her room. She was waiting for Rachel to come up with her. She had hoped that she didn't have to ask, and that she would just come anyway, so she didn't push it; she didn't want to be clingy or anything because, fuck, she's only known her for a day. But Quinn, being Quinn, asked Rachel to hang back. When everyone else was gone, Rachel and Quinn were both sitting on the couch in front of the fire place. Quinn noticed the orange light flicker across Rachel's skin. She also smiled as she saw Rachel bite her lip nervously. "So, what did you want to talk about?" Rachel asked. 'How insanely hot you look,' Quinn thought. "I wanted to try something," Quinn said. She could swear she could practically hear Rachel's heart beating, and she knew she bought that Quinn had meant something else. Not that Quinn was exactly opposed to 'that other thing' either. It was a dumb idea, and Quinn knew it, but she couldn't let Santana move in further on what could be interpreted in some irrational way of thinking as her territory. It was just dumb luck, dumb fucking luck that Quinn will be cursing from now until the end of time, that Santana had the fortune of meeting Rachel first. So, she decided to try something... before she tries something. "Okay, close your eyes," Quinn said. Rachel smiles and giggle a little, no longer nervous. "What're you gonna do?" 'Fuck you until you can't walk anymore,' Quinn thinks again to herself, taking the opportunity of Rachel's eyes being closed to creep on the beautiful curves of her breasts, covered by a black tank top. She focuses herself. "I just, I want to maybe see if there are any powers I have that I haven't discovered yet," Quinn breaths. "Oh, so why are my eyes closed?" "I want to see if I can pull off Coercion. If your eyes were open, you might just be dazzled by them and not actually do as I say because of the power," Quinn says, feigning arrogance. Rachel laughs the sweetest laugh you've ever heard in your life and Quinn smiles. "Kiss me," Quinn squeaks out. It was supposed to be more commanding, and she didn't even think about it before she said it. When she had, she was partially shocked by herself, kind of proud and anxious and excited to see her reaction and partially sad to think that her first kiss with Rachel might be because she coerced her into it. Rachel paused for a moment and Quinn's heart sank to her stomach in one swift motion, and she couldn't breathe. Then, Quinn swears she saw her inch forward, but the smell of Rachel, lemons and lavender, intoxicated Quinn and made her lean in first. So much for the sense of this plan. Oh my god, Quinn internally moaned. Her lips were so soft and fit like a puzzle piece, a sexy puzzle piece, with Rachel's. They moved their lips in sync and Quinn held her breath not wanting to accidentally interrupt the moment by doing something like, I don't know, breathing. Their lips moved with grace and desperation, more Rachel's part on the former and Quinn's on the ladder, but oh well. By the time they parted, Quinn couldn't breathe and not from lack of oxygen. Never in her life had anything felt so right before. "Was um," Quinn starts "No. I wanted to. I mean, I would have and of my own volition if you hadn't leaned in first," Rachel says, freeing the butterflies in Quinn's stomach of their cage and letting them fly free. "But," Rachel says, bringing Quinn down slightly from her high and making her heart skip a beat. "What about Santana?" Santana's name leaks venom in her ears, and it physically hurts to think about Rachel and her together. "What about her?" Quinn struggles through clenched teeth. "She kissed me too. God, I feel like a," Rachel stops herself and looks away ashamed. Quinn feels awful that she's made Rachel feel guilty. This isn't her fault. "No, no," Quinn places her hand between Rachel's shoulder and her soft neck. "You're not," Quinn searches for the word, "you're wonderful." "Hey, Rach, you comin' up, I snagged some whipped cream from the-" Santana says as she comes down the stares. She eyes us with irritation. "Oh, I see," she says, her voice dripping with venom,"Rachel, when you're done with Quinn, I'll be upstairs. And I'll still have the whipped cream. I hope I don't have to eat if all by myself." Quinn fumes and makes no effort to hide it. Santana flashes her a 'na na na na na na' look and walks up the stairs. "What do we do from her?" Rachel asks. If only Quinn had an answer. Oh wait, she did. About a thousand. 'Dump Satan and come up to my room', 'Let's skip town. I hear Cincinnati is pretty this time of year', 'we could always share' no. Scratch that last one. Pn either Quinn nor Santana had ever been good at sharing,me specially not with each other. Plus, Quinn can't explain it p, but she feels an instantaneous and miraculous connection to this girl not to mention attraction, I mean Jesus. Plus it's not fair to Rachel. Shit. Damn Cordelia, her field trips, this coven, Santana, Father Time, Jude Law and everything under the Sun, because Fuck, Quinn is frustrated and decides to focus her energies on what's right in front of her, the incredibly brilliant, clairvoyant, long legged brunette with soft lips just begging to be sucked and nibbled on and... Quinn focuses herself yet again and leans in, burying her emotions not in denial or a distraction or even lust, but something that makes her truly truly happy for once. A/N: Sorry about the shortness and the long wait, and by the way, was I the only one who was super disappointed by the utter and devastating lack of Faberry in 100? Anyway, as always thanks for reading, don't forget to review, I'll try to get the next chapter up sooner and include some new plot elements like their powers and also Faberry and Pezberry action! Thanks for reading! Byeeee :) 


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